Syrah
by starbuckmeggie
Summary: Donna reveals old pieces of herself to Josh


I sigh with satisfaction, humming low in my throat—it damn near sounds like I'm purring. I push my sweaty hair off my forehead before snuggling closer to Josh. I bury my face in his neck and rest my hand against his chest, his skin sticky and damp. I can feel his heart thumping erratically.

"How you doing there?" he asks me; even though his voice is breathless and a little raspy, he still sounds unbearably smug.

"Shut up," I answer, though it comes more like a moan. I give his shoulder a little shove, pushing myself back from him. He catches me before I can go too far, his hand sliding in between my shoulder blades to pull me dose again. He leans in and kisses me, but it's tender and reverent.

I sigh again as we part, my cheeks curving up in a smile. "Thank you for the orgasm," I tease, rubbing m y toes against his leg.

"My pleasure," he answers, waggling his eyebrows at me.

"I mean, most guys would give their girlfriends a card or flowers for finishing their first semester back at school on the Dean's list."

"Well, I like to be original," he answers, though I can see his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink. "Anyone can run to the grocery store and find a generic bouquet, but I'm the only one who can make your toes curl."

I shrug and make a noncommittal noise, knowing it'll get a rise out of him. Sure enough, his nostrils flare and he props himself up on his elbow to glare at me.

"Are you saying I'm _not_ the only one making your toes curl? Are you shacking up with someone else on the side?"

"Yes, Josh. I have a whole second set of stuff that I keep at my other boyfriend's apartment. In between sleeping next to you every night and working in the same building as you every day, I've managed to nail down and move in with a second man."

"You know, you could just call me a stud and reassure me that I'm the only one for you."

"Where's the fun in that?" He pouts—honest to God pouts—and I can't help but laugh a little before pressing my lips to his again. "I love you," I whisper.

"I'll take it," he answers, settling next to me again. I run my hand over his stubbly cheek, taking in the lines and contours of his face like I've never seen him before. He takes it all in stride, though, letting me get my fill. I should have memorized his face years ago—really, I thought I had—but it wasn't until we moved to this portion of our relationship that I discovered a million new pieces of him. I honestly think I could look at him forever and never get bored.

He smiles and turns his face a little, kissing the palm of my hand. "So…how does it feel to be done with your first set of classes?"

I can't help but shake my head and chuckle—he's asked me that already but I'm pretty sure he's fishing right now. "Positively euphoric," I answer, which is mostly true. I feel euphoric right now for sure, but other than that, the May semester has already started so I didn't get much of a break between one set of classes ending and a new one beginning. "Well, if I'm going to be rewarded with sex when I get good grades, I might just stay in school forever."

He laughs and pulls me closer, giving me another kiss before pulling the blankets over our bodies. Honestly, the past few months have been tough. Between starting a completely new job that I still feel wildly under-qualified for and going to classes for the first time in over a decade, I've been more than a little overwhelmed. Oddly enough, the also new element of have a significant other, and that significant other being Josh, has been a counterbalance to get me through it all. It should have been weird, and it should have added to my overwhelmed state, but…not so much. The past six months with Josh have been nothing short of perfect. Even back in March, when I gave up the pretense and officially moved in with him, it didn't feel stressful. If anything, it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt like I was finally home. It went a long way to easing my mind during the whole thing.

"Tell me a secret," he says suddenly, and I blink at him in surprise.

"A secret?"

"Yeah. Something I don't know about you."

"Ummm…" A secret? "Well," I lower my voice to a whisper. "I actually really like brussel sprouts."

He laughs and puts his hand on my hip, giving me a little shake. "No—tell me something real."

"Something real? Josh…where is this coming from? Is this some new post-coital thing?"

"I just want to know everything about you."

"I think we passed that point about five years ago."

He shifts closer to me, putting his head on my pillow so our noses almost touch. "I can't possibly know _everything_ about you. You must have held a few things back. I mean, you don't know everything about me—"

"Oh, really? I don't know that you had your tonsils removed when you were five? Or that you had your appendix taken out when you were fourteen? Or how about how you lied about losing your virginity at seventeen and actually lost it when you were almost twenty-two?"

His mouth opens and closes for a few moments as he tries to get his bearings. "Well, what about the scar right here—"

I cut him off before he can lift his arm all the way. "The one on your forearm that you got falling off your bike at Mikey Davidson's seventh birthday and you had to get six stitches?"

"Okay, I don't want to play this game with you anymore. "

I laugh and press my lips to his for a quick kiss. "I know you, Josh. I don't think there's about much about you that's a mystery at this point. I know the names of your college roommates and their parents. I know that you had a massive crush on Amy Gardener in college. I know—"

"All right, I get your point. If you think we've already told each other everything, I'll believe you. We can just lie here and bask." He wraps his arms around me and I scoot down a little, tucking myself under his chin. I breathe him in. It's probably a little gross but I love the way he smells after sex. Not the smell of sex in the air after—he just smells so strongly of _him_. It's got to be the pheromones. It's so potent in those moments, and it comforts me at the same time it ignites me. Our bodies mold together as if we've been doing this for years instead of months.

My eyes flutter as his fingers stroke my back; I feel completely boneless and content, and if I never had to leave this bed, I think I'd be okay.

"We fit together so perfectly," he mumbles.

My eyes fly open. "Josh…I think I just thought of something."

"Oh, yeah? Something I don't know about you?" He pulls back and props himself up on this elbow again. "Do tell."

"It might change the way you look at me."

His eyebrows shoot upward. "Should I be worried?"

I shrug, then pause for a moment before chuckling sadly. "I just thought of something else you don't know about me. I don't know you should be worried but…once you open Pandora's Box, you can't put everything back in. Are you okay with that?"

"Donna, you're freaking me out a little here. Did you knock over a convenience store as a kid? Were you a registered republican at some point? What?"

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I already regret bringing any of it up. Serious relationship or not, there are some things that don't necessarily need to be shared. Not that anything I haven't told him as at all a big deal—in fact, I haven't thought about either in years. I just don't want him to blow anything out of proportion.

"I wouldn't get too worked up over this, Josh."

"You're the one who said it could change the way I look at you and you don't want me to get worked up? The longer you put off telling me, the worse I'm imaging so…"

I sigh. "It's going to seem dumb."

"I doubt it. Just tell me. Whatever it is, it isn't going to make me love you less."

I pull the blankets tighter around my chest protectively. "Fine. You asked for it." I take a couple of deep, steadying breaths. "A million years ago, back in my first year of college…I was in a relationship with another girl." I pause there, waiting for a response. When I get nothing, I glace at him out of the corner of my eye, not terribly surprised to find him staring at me. "Josh?" He blinks at me for a while—it's actually almost funny. "Breathe, honey."

He inhales sharply at that, though he doesn't stop staring. "You were with another woman?"

I wrinkle my nose and turn my gaze back to the ceiling. "You make it sound so dirty."

"You were in a relationship with another woman?" he asks again, his voice suddenly an octave higher.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, yeah, kinda! I didn't know you had any inclination toward women."

"I don't."

"Well, then, how do you explain…"

"I'm not into women; it was just that one womanthat one time." I look over at him again and I can swear I see his eyes glaze over, his mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly. "You're picturing it, aren't you?"

"Oh, God, yeah."

"You're disgusting."

His lips curve up a little at the corners, his gaze still off in the distance. "You can't give me a mental image like that and expect me to not—"

"This conversation is over," I announce, pulling the blankets up to my chin and turning away from him.

"Donna, come on."

"No. You asked me to tell you a secret and you try to turn it into something dirty."

"Hey, I've _never_ pictured you with another woman before—it's kinda hot."

"You're sick."

"Donna—"

"You're not supposed to be picturing it!"

I feel the bed shift as he scoots up behind me, and though I don't relax into him, I don't move away from him, either. "I'm sorry," he whispers in my ear, one of his arms draping loosely over my middle. "You're right. I wanted to learn something about you and you're trying to share something with me. It's just…never in a million years, with that sort of preface, would I have guess that _this_ is what you'd never told me about yourself. C'mon—tell me the rest of the story."

I turn my head a little, looking at him over my shoulder. "You promise you won't picture things?"

"Can't do that," he answers and I groan in disgust, turning away from him again. "Hey; I'm just being honest. I'll be as well behaved as possible but I can't help if my body reacts. Don't hold it against me, all right? I'm the lowest, most basic form of man but I'll do my best to behave myself." I remain silent, curled on my side, blankets pulled up to my chin. "Please?"

I sigh, mulling it over. Josh can be like a dog with a bone when he wants to get information from someone and it might just be easier to tell him now instead of letting him wear me down. On the other hand, if he knows I really don't want to talk about something, he won't push it.

He shifts away from me and my heart jumps into my throat as I turn over to see where he's going. All he does is prop himself up against the headboard, adjusting the blankets over his lap. "Look—I'm removing myself from temptation. I'll do my very best to behave."

I can't help but smirk at him a little, even though his expression is so earnest—he really is trying to be good. I opened this can of worms; the least I can do is try to see it through. I sit up, too, and nudge his leg. "Hand me my shirt."

He starts to reach for the bottom of the bed but pauses, looking offended. "Why?"

I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to cross my arms over my chest self-consciously. "Because I don't think talking about the time I was with a woman while my boobs are hanging out will be effective." His eyebrows shoot up and I manage to roll my eyes again. "Not effective in the listening way. I'm sure it would be effective for a few other things." He chuckles and goes back to looking for my tank top for a few moments before tossing me his undershirt.

"Don't know where yours is," he answers before I can ask. "It's probably under the bed somehow." Skeptically, I eye the garment for a few seconds before pulling it on. Typically, me wearing Josh's clothes has the same effect on him as wearing nothing at all, and the white material has a tendency to cling to me, leaving little to the imagination. Not that it matters—he sees me naked all the time. He doesn't have to put forth much effort to imagine it.

I tug the shirt into place and sigh. "I don't know where to start."

"I have so many questions," he says eagerly. Not surprising. "I mean, _how_ did you start seeing another woman?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was completely by accident?"

He grins from ear to ear. "Knowing you? Yeah. Yeah, I'd believe it."

"Actually, I had no idea we were even dating for a couple of months. Even now, after all this time, I'm still not sure where it started."

"Okay, so…how did you two meet?"

"In college." He gives me a look. "Oh. Right. We covered that part. I met her my first semester of school in one of my sociology classes. She was a few years ahead of me but she'd put off taking the class…I think she thought the class credit had transferred from her community college and found out a few years into it that it hadn't and needed it to graduate. Anyway, since I'm not exactly shy or withdrawn, by the end of the first day of classes, I'd gathered groups of people to be my study buddies. She happened to be one of them. Actually, she was the only one from that class that stuck with the whole study group thing, though why, I don't know. She knew the material and didn't need any help."

"Uh, Donna? I'm new to this whole part of you, but I'm guessing she stuck with it because she liked you. I mean, if you wound up dating and all."

I feel a few things click into place—I'd genuinely never thought of it that way before. "Wow…I guess you're right. That's interesting." A little perspective and objectivity does wonders sometimes. "We became friends, though. She was fun to hang around with and she knew the school so I didn't feel like I was wandering around like most of the other freshman. It was nice to find a friend so fast. I had other friends, too, but meeting her on my first day saved me from those awkward meals alone in the dining hall." I pause there, memories surfacing rapid fire in my brain. It's been a long time since I thought about this part of my life.

He's quiet again for a few moments, letting me ponder it all. "Does she have a name?"

I scoff, looking at him skeptically. "Yeah, right. Like you need that information."

"What—you think I'm going to track her down or something? I wouldn't do that." I lift my eyebrow at him and he immediately concedes. "Okay, fine, it's definitely something I would do, but I won't this time. I just thought it'd be easier than saying 'her' and 'she'."

"Cara. Her name was Cara." I haven't thought that name in over ten years. I feel like I'm trapped in the some maudlin soap opera or angsty teen movie with the way it's all coming back to me. I wouldn't say that I've blocked it all out so much as it's just not something that feels like real life. It's almost like it all happened to a different person, and I suppose in a lot of ways, it did. I'm not the same person I was at age eighteen.

"Cara," he repeats. "Was she pretty?"

"Was she pretty? What does it matter?"

"Just trying to get a visual."

I reach over and smack his thigh, not even a little sorry when he jumps. "Josh!"

"I'm sorry—I'm just teasing. You seemed like you were getting a little too…I don't know…sad, maybe. Did it not end well?"

"Not as well as it could, I guess. I'll get to that." I pause, trying to draw up a mental picture of Cara and am surprised when I realize I can't. "I don't…I don't really remember what she looked like. I don't know that we ever took any pictures together."

Josh reaches over and puts his hand on mine, squeezing it gently. "Take your time."

"You really want to hear about this?"

"Absolutely! And I don't even mean that in the gross guy sort of way. I really do want to know."

"Well, we started off as study partners, like I said. For the first few weeks. we mostly saw each other in class, thought we'd usually have lunch together after class let out. We had our first exam less than a month into the semester and I tried to gather together all those study buddies I'd made the first day for a cram session at the library. Do you know who showed up?"

"You and Cara?"

"Me and Cara. So, we studied for a little while, of course—that's what we were there for, but it didn't last long. She didn't really need the help and I had a pretty good handle on the material, so we wound up talking and actually got kicked out of the library."

"Donna Moss got kicked out of a library? How scandalous."

"There's a first time for everything. Apparently, we were laughing too loudly. Anyway, she mentioned a party some of her friends were having and she invited me along. I hadn't been to any college parties yet. We had a lot of fun. She offered me alcohol but never pressured me to drink, which was sweet."

"Don't expect me to believe you grew up around nothing but cornfields and dairy farms and never drank before you went to college," Josh interrupts, disbelief coloring his voice. "I know there wasn't a lot else to do."

"Of course I did. I drank underage. I did all of the stupid things teenagers do. It was still nice to have it offered to me instead of feeling like I'd be some sort of baby for not wanting to drink, especially around a group of people I didn't know, which I definitely didn't want to do at that point. She introduced me to her friends and they were all nice to me."

"You were screwing with me, right?" he asks suddenly. "The whole relationship with another woman thing? You just said that to make me squirm."

"Josh…what?"

"I mean it sounds like she was a good friend and all—I'm not questioning that—"

"Do you want to hear the story, or do you want to keep interrupting?"

He opens his mouth for a few seconds before he rethinks it and purses his lips, gesturing for me to continue.

"Anyway, after that, we spent most of our free time together. We'd study at her apartment—because she was twenty-one and lived off campus—even if we were working on different things. She walked me to my classes or met me afterward. We ate almost all of our meals together. She's the one who introduced me to wine, not that she could afford good stuff but it still helped me develop a taste for it. Even when we had fall break in October, we talked on the phone every day. She went on some retreat but managed to find a phone for at least an hour each day. I can't even imagine what her long-distance bill was.

"I guess…after that is when things changed. I got back to campus and barely stopped by my dorm room to drop off my stuff before going to her place. The way she hugged me when I got there…I don't know, Josh. It felt different than before, but I was too naïve to figure it out. But she made dinner and had found a nice bottle of wine and we sat at her table to eat and I still didn't realize what was going on. I had no idea she was…"

"Romancing you?" Josh asks and I shrug.

"Yeah."

"No offense, but how could you not?"

"I was still young, you know, and it's not like I had experience with romance at that point. I dated in high school but none of us were exactly into flowers and candlelight. Seeing it in movies really doesn't prepare you for the real thing, especially when it comes from such an unexpected source. I had no idea she was gay—I'd never thought about it.

"Anyway, after dinner, we were hanging out on her couch, which we always did, talking about our upcoming midterms and the papers and projects we had to do, then talking about just regular stuff and…it took me a while to notice but she kept shifting closer. It wasn't aggressive or anything, but once I realized what was happening, it was unmistakable. Maybe I was in denial or disbelief at that point because I couldn't imagine why she was doing that." I pause, taking a shuddering breath—part of me is amazed that I remember this much so clearly, but it really was a huge, pivotal moment in my life. It's all so clear and sharp, almost as if it happened yesterday. "She reached over suddenly and—" I pause again, turning to face Josh, "and leaned in and kissed me. Like it was something we'd always been doing. It was very…gentle. She didn't push, but I don't know if I responded much. She pulled back a little and said—whispered, really—'You're so beautiful,' and I remember…I didn't know how to process that."

"But, Donna, you _are_ beautiful."

"But I'd never been called that. Not at that point. I was only eighteen. I mean, probably some relative or grandparent said it but…I'd been called cute or pretty but beautiful was a new one. It threw me enough that when she kissed me again, I guess I responded. And she kissed me. Really kissed me. Actually, to that point, I'd never been kissed so well. I don't know if it's because she was older than me or because she's a girl and girls kiss differently but…it was good. But it also freaked me out a little. Well, it freaked me out a lot. I'd never kissed a girl before and I had no idea before then she wanted to kiss me, so it lasted maybe a couple of minutes because part of that time, I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to do. Anyway, she came up for air and I stopped her from kissing me again and…the look on her face. I don't remember what I said but I left shortly thereafter and she didn't walk me back to my dorm. That was a first. I didn't get a lot of sleep that night, either—I didn't know what had happened or why. I mean, obviously I knew _then_ that she was a lesbian, but I'd had no idea that she was interested in me before that. Like I said, I was freaked out, and it was partly because I didn't hate kissing her. I was a little lost at that moment. I thought I could talk to her the next morning at breakfast but she didn't show up. She wasn't in class that day, either." I trail off then, taking a few deep breaths as I realize I'm starting to get a little choked up. It seems ridiculous to feel emotional about something happened so long ago, but, like I told Josh, I hadn't thought about Cara in a long time.

Josh's arm slides around my shoulders and he pulls me against his side. "Wow. I'm sorry. That sounds like a rough way to end it."

I chuckle a little. "That's not the end."

"It's not? But that sounded so final."

"You would think, but no—there's more."

"Are you sure you're up for telling me the rest?"

I angle my neck, looking up at his face, and he looks so concerned right now. He's so sweet, not that he wants that information to get around, and he hates even the idea of me being in pain, but I find that I do want to tell him the rest of the story.

"I'm good," I answer, leaning into him for a few seconds. "So, after Cara didn't show up to class or even to meet me after that, I went to her apartment. I didn't even knock at first because I figured she'd play opossum so I hung around in the hallway like a stalker until I heard her moving around inside. She did ignore me while I knocked for a while but people started complaining so she finally let me in.

"Things were definitely weird at first. She wouldn't make eye contact with me, she kept apologizing, and I kept telling her I was only mad because she'd stood me up for our usual routine…It was a hard conversation to have because neither of us knew where to start. I told her I didn't know she was gay and she said she didn't know how I could have missed it. She said she'd been putting off signals left and right and thought I had been, too. She said she'd been taking it slow because I was so young and I told her I thought she was one of my closest friends and that's what all our time together had been about. That's when I found out she thought we'd been dating for almost two months. And, Josh, you've got to remember that as much stigma as there is even now about being gay, it was even worse in the early nineties. College campuses were often a lot more liberal than other parts of the world but, at least in Wisconsin, most people still weren't really _out_. There was no hand-holding or public displays of affections, so Cara never would have done something like that. She thought that all the dinners and lunches and study sessions and wine in her apartment was us dating. She just needed a sign from me that I was ready for more and I guess she thought fall break was it. I had to tell her that I wasn't gay—and she looked even more heart broken and embarrassed than before. Then I had to find every bit of courage that I didn't know I had and tell her that despite that, I liked her a lot. That I liked kissing her, and that if she could keep being patient with me, we could see what happened. That was scary for me, you know? It was a scary thing to say because I liked guys and I'd always liked guys and it had never occurred to me to look at a woman in that way, and I didn't know any other woman who I would consider like that. I felt something more for Cara that I didn't know if I should ignore. I didn't know what it was but I knew I didn't want her out of my life. So, we decided to keep doing what we'd been doing. She said she wanted to keep kissing me but only if it didn't make me uncomfortable.

"It was all very strange for me because I'd never considered myself as anything but straight. I was suddenly questioning everything I'd ever known. I was suddenly attracted to this woman, though before she kissed me, I never thought of it as attraction. I was kissing her like it was the most normal thing in the world…my brain was on overload…like I think yours is right now. You okay?"

Josh blinks at me a few times before clearing his throat. "Yeah. Sorry. I'll be honest; this is nothing like I expected. I guess my mind really went to the dirty, porno version of two women together. I never thought about it from your perspective, though. I can see how all of this would be overwhelming. Did you get to…did you have anyone to talk to?"

I laugh then, though it comes out watery. "Such as? The stigma, Josh, remember? It's not that I didn't have other friends, but I didn't know what I'd say to them. I was afraid of being ostracized because I was suddenly questioning my sexuality. I didn't know if anyone would understand or if they'd think I was diseased or be worried that I was going to hit on them or any of the other stupid things people who are ignorant or homophobic think. I couldn't tell my parents—I knew they wouldn't understand. I'd always been their little Donna—always with a boyfriend or some date for the evening…it wouldn't have made sense to them. Hell, it didn't make sense to _me_. Actually…wow. You're the first person I've ever told about this. That can't be right. The first?" Have I really not talked to _anyone_ about this for close to fifteen years?

"Seriously?" he asks, incredulous. "You've kept this to yourself all this time?"

"Yeah, I guess I have. Like I said, it was such a short period in my life and I've never been attracted to another woman so I don't think I'd even consider myself bisexual. Cara was just someone…"

"Special," Josh finishes, tightening his arm around my shoulders. I nod, staring at my hands in my lap for a few minutes. "Is there more you want to tell?"

I shrug and sigh. "We dated, sort of. We didn't do much different than we already were doing. We'd study together and eat in the dining hall, go to the movies or even out to dinner. No one thought anything about it because they just assumed we were friends and since we didn't behave like a 'couple' in public, no one had reason to assume otherwise. When we were at her apartment, we'd kiss and stuff. She was always the instigator but she let me take the lead so I'd be comfortable. And I have to tell you, having kissed both men and a woman, there's not a lot of actual difference. I mean, every person is different, of course, and kissing you is nothing like kissing anyone else—I promise I'm not just stroking your ego—but on the whole, one set of lips is pretty much the same as the next. So, kissing her was nice. Once in a while, I'd weird myself out thinking about the fact that I was kissing a girl, but it was overall fun. She'd slowly try to go further and I'd usually let her. It was mostly hands under the shirt stuff, which is also not that different than a guy doing it, though I found her to be a lot more gentle with me than the guys I'd been with. Probably because she had breasts and knew how she liked them treated.

"We did that for close to a month and she was so patient with me. She never pushed—never. Other than my own securities with it all, she never made me uncomfortable. Thanksgiving rolled around and we both went home for the holiday and I worked on psyching myself up for it all. I didn't want her to feel like she was doing all the work, and I wanted to give the whole possibly-being-a-lesbian-thing a chance. I thought maybe my preconceived notions were getting in the way and I wanted to see if I could shake all that. So after Thanksgiving, we started going at it pretty hot and heavy, or at least hot and heavy for me. We spent most of our free time on her couch with our shirts off, kissing and touching. She paid a lot of attention to my breasts and didn't seem to mind when I couldn't entirely return the favor. The Saturday after Thanksgiving…something shifted. I didn't know how to put my finger on it then but…you know when you've been dating someone for a while and you suddenly know they want sex? I couldn't have described it then but everything felt different that night. She'd made dinner for us and had a very nice bottle of wine, there were candles and music…" My voice trails off there, the memory of it all threatening to overwhelm me.

"And…" Josh prompts gently.

"Are you sure you want to hear this? Be honest. I'm okay with leaving it there if you're uncomfortable."

"Who cares if I'm uncomfortable? If you want to tell me this, I want to hear it. If you want to stop, that's okay, too."

I pause again, thinking it over. It's hard to talk about, honestly, though not because I'm ashamed of myself or my brief relationship with Cara. It's hard because I always assumed no one would understand it and I eventually packed the memories away. But Josh of all people—the guy who's never liked the mere idea of me dating another person—is giving me his full attention. No jealousy, no snark, no judgment…just support.

I take a deep breath. "After dinner, we did some more kissing, though not all sprawled out. We sat up on the couch and while it wasn't forceful, it was more aggressive. No—that's not the right word. Purposeful, maybe. I remember...she stood up and took my hands, pulling me up, too, and led me to her bedroom. She took my shirt off and I took hers off. While we were kissing, she unbuttoned my pants and helped me out of those. I remember feeling very vulnerable because…well, I'm sure you can figure out why. I was so in my head with the whole thing that I was hyperaware of every flaw I thought I had, though Cara didn't seem to mind or notice them. She took off her pants, too, and helped me onto the bed. She crawled on top of me and we kissed some more—it wasn't too different from making out on the couch, expect we were mostly naked." I pause again. I need a few moments. On top of everything else, it feels strange to be telling my current boyfriend about any previous sexual experience.

I have to stop and mentally correct myself—Josh isn't my "current" boyfriend. He's the man I love. He's the guy I'm hopefully building a life with. We live together. He's not the guy I've been seeing for a few weeks that'll probably lead to nowhere. He's _Josh_. The man I've known for almost ten years and the man I've loved for almost as long. If I can't share this part of me with him, who can I share it with?

"I don't think I need to go into detail here. My bra came off, her hand went down my underwear, I had a…truly astounding orgasm. I'd never had one before that wasn't self-induced. I'm sure you remember what it was like to be a young guy—you could probably barely last long enough to get a girl naked never mind give her an orgasm."

"Hey!" Josh squawks indignantly. "I don't think I like what you're implying."

"Josh…really? I'm not complaining at all about your stamina now but you expect me to believe you came out of the gate with the ability to last longer than a minute or two?"

He scowls at me for another few seconds before slumping back against the headboard. "Fine."

"I'm not judging you for it, I promise. Everyone starts somewhere—I'm just glad this is where you've ended up. But at that point, with the experiences I'd had, it was kind of revelatory. It set the bar pretty high for anyone who came after that.

"She was gentle and sweet during it—she had one arm around me and kept kissing me and whispering in my ear and asking if everything was all right. My underwear came off after that and she…well, she went down on me. I mean, she didn't jump directly to that—there was a lot of kissing and touching and slowly working her way down. She'd tell me we could stop if I wanted but…I was curious. The first orgasm was so good that I wanted to know what else could happen. I had a vague concept of oral sex but I hadn't really watched porn at that point and if anyone I knew was doing it, they sure weren't talking about it." Josh shifts next to me, squirming a little, and my eyes immediately go to his lap, where he's not doing a very good job of hiding his erection. I lift my eyebrow at him and he throws his hands up, exasperated.

"I can't help it! Part of me is wildly jealous of this girl from your past and what she did with you and…part of me is really, _really_ interested. I can't hear you talk about orgasms without getting a little…" He gestures helplessly at his lap and I take pity on him. It's not like he's trying to act out the story with me and he's not asking for details. His body is just having a reaction to what is objectively an erotic story. I put my hand on his thigh and squeeze gently, hopefully letting him know it's all right.

"So…yeah. She went down on me, like I said. Honestly, it was extraordinary. I'd never felt anything like it. She didn't rush anything there, either. I didn't have time to feel weird that it was a girl doing it because, well, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I couldn't think. I don't know if she'd had a lot of practice or if it was a natural talent of hers but I felt like I was leaving my body. The orgasm was _intense_. Seriously. It'd be years before I'd experience something like that again." He can probably easily guess that he was the next one to have that particular honor, not that there weren't orgasms in between. There just weren't any that rocked my world in quite the same way. However, now is not the moment to stroke his ego. "She was very sweet after that, too, holding me and telling me I was beautiful, stuff like that. After I'd kind of come back to myself, I was feeling…amorous. I wanted to return the favor somehow. I couldn't bring myself to go down on her, though. I thought maybe I could but…it still felt weird to me. I used my hands, though, and she seemed to like it. She made all the right noises and gave me guidance when I needed it. She certainly knew it was my first time with a woman and was very patient. I made her orgasm, so there's that. I sure wasn't as relaxed as she'd been with me; I kind of sat next to her awkwardly and did the best I could. Like I said, she seemed to be enjoying herself. I wasn't sure what to do afterward but she cuddled up with me and tucked us in. Honestly, I'd never slept next to someone like that before. Despite having sex prior to that, that was during high school and co-ed sleepovers weren't exactly a thing. So, I felt a little uncomfortable with that, but Cara was fine with it. She kept kissing my forehead and telling me how wonderful everything had been. One of the things she said right before she fell asleep was, 'We fit together so perfectly,' and that's what you said to me a few minutes ago, so I guess that's why I thought about all this."

"Oh, God. Donna, I didn't—"

"How could you possibly? You said what you were feeling. It just so happens that someone else felt that first."

He chuckles a little, pulling me against his side. "That's not how it ends, though, right? With Cara? How long were you two together after that?"

A wave of sadness washes over me, so thick it nearly chokes me. "Not long, actually. She fell asleep soon after all that but I was wide awake. As good as everything felt that night—and it felt _good_—it still didn't feel…right. Part of me really hoped that having sex with her would make everything fall into place, you know? But it all still felt like a lie. I cared for her so much and I really wanted to feel about her the way she seemed to feel about me, but all I could do was focus on the fact that it was okay because it wasn't that different than being with a guy, and that absolutely wasn't fair to either of us. She was such a great person—smart, funny, sweet, kind…the whole package. But it wasn't there. I couldn't keep trying to feel something I didn't and be something I wasn't. It killed me, though, because I thought it shouldn't matter if she was a woman—feelings are feelings. That was the problem—I just didn't have those feelings. She was attractive but I wasn't attracted to her. Kissing her was nice but in the entire month we were together, I could never completely stop thinking about her being a woman and how being with her never felt like it should have when you're with someone romantically. I hated myself for that. I felt terrible. I felt terrible for a lot of things. I felt like I'd been leading her on even though I'd been as honest as I could. I felt like I'd been lying to myself and was I was trying to force something. I was trying to make her happy at the cost of my own happiness."

Josh hands me a tissue, and it's only then I realize I've been crying. I never thought this million-year-old memory would affect me like this. "Seriously, Donna," he says softly. "You don't have to keep talking about this if…"

"Oh, it gets worse," I answer, dabbing at my face. "We're almost there—might as well show you what a completely awful person I am." I take a deep breath and plunge in. "I tried for a couple of hours to sleep but…I couldn't. I couldn't relax enough and my mind was swirling. I didn't know if after we woke up she'd want to do it again and I didn't know if I'd be able to tell her no. So I got dressed."

"Donna…"

"I didn't leave, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not that heartless. I got dressed and sat there on her bed, waiting for her to wake up. I could have done it myself but...I was too much of a coward. So it was another couple of hours before she woke up and I just sat there, staring at the wall. I don't know what time it was when she finally came to but she looked so happy to see me. I don't think she realized or cared that I was dressed. She went in to kiss me good morning and it all fell out of me. I don't at all remember what I said. I know gave her the 'it's not you, it's me' thing but it was completely true. I tried to explain everything I was feeling and that I wanted her to be my friend and I couldn't imagine my life without her. I wanted to be able to spend time with her and all of that…just it couldn't be as her girlfriend. I didn't want to hurt her but that's definitely what I did. She looked so sad. I don't even know how else to describe it. It broke my heart. She tried to play it off, I think, and told me she'd need a little time but thought we could be friends. I felt no animosity toward her—she didn't do anything wrong. She gave me every chance she could to let me change my mind about all of it. I went along with it. She didn't take advantage of me and I didn't feel violated—I just knew I wasn't a lesbian. I couldn't even be gay exclusively for her, but I didn't want her to feel like we couldn't be close. But, I agreed to give her some space and told her that I hoped we could at least still study for our final together. I went back to my dorm then—it was definitely a walk of shame, though not in the traditional sense. I wasn't ashamed of anything but how it turned out.

"I spent the rest of the weekend in my room, trying to process everything. I really, _really_ tried to figure out a way to be what Cara wanted but it just wasn't there. Not shockingly, she didn't meet me for breakfast Monday morning and she wasn't in class, either. I didn't go to her place because I wanted to give her time to do what she needed to do. I didn't see her at all that week, either. I tried calling her a bunch of times but I never heard from her. We didn't have that long left in class before finals—maybe two or three weeks. She didn't show up for any of it. I finally had to ask one of our classmates about her, which was a little humiliating because we'd been pretty inseparable for most of the semester. Someone told me she'd taken her final early. I tried tracking her down through some of the friends I'd met at the parties she'd taken me to and someone finally told me that Cara had taken all of her exams early and went home for Christmas. Before I left for the semester, someone else told me that Cara had decided to leave the University of Wisconsin and transfer schools. I don't think she told anyone what happened between us, but in hindsight, some of those people we partied with were probably lesbians and maybe knew that Cara thought we were dating and then thought I'd done something terrible to her, which I sort of did. That's probably why I got stonewalled by so many people."

I let out a shuddering sigh, relishing Josh's comforting arm around my shoulders. "Just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse, you know?"

"Oh, God. Donna, I'm so sorry."

"All I could do was assume she left because of what happened with us. I felt like I was two inches tall. I never wanted to hurt her and did exactly that. I think I cried the entire winter break. My parents thought some guy had broken my heart and tried to comfort me but…" I shrug, trying to collect myself. "_I_ was the one who did the heart-breaking. _I_ was the terrible one—"

"No, you weren't," Josh interrupts. "If everything you're telling me is true, it sounds like it was just an awful situation. You didn't set out to hurt her, right?"

"Of course not! I never wanted to hurt her. I just didn't know…I didn't know all of it would hurt her so much. She really didn't come back to school the next semester. I…" I stop, taking deep breaths as I try to get myself under control, but I can already tell it's a losing battle. A sob bubbles out of me and I bury my face in my hands, crying harder than I have in a long time. Josh wraps his arms around me, stroking my hair, and it occurs to me that this might be the first time I've had to actually mourn the entire thing. Since I never felt comfortable talking about my time with Cara to anyone in my life, I absolutely repressed it and buried it and forgot about it as much as possible, but that also means I never had a chance to work through it properly. My tears right now are painful and cathartic. While I don't feel entirely absolved of guilt, saying it out loud makes me realize that it wasn't entirely my fault, either. I don't blame Cara for anything, but it was also just a strange, uncharted situation and I handled it the best way I could. I was a kid and I was in no way prepared for any of that. I can't help but wonder how different things might have been if Cara hadn't transferred schools. Not that I think I would have become a different person for her, but maybe we could have talked about it all at some point and figured out a way to actually be friends.

It takes me a while but I manage to get my tears under control—Josh holds me as long as I need, though I imagine part of him is in shock. If nothing else, when he asked for a secret, he probably never thought he'd be holding his girlfriend as she sobbed. I relaxed my hold on him and wipe my face, taking a few more deep breaths. "I swore off dating and even regular social events because I didn't want to run the risk of…anything, really. I changed my major after that, too. Even though I'd really liked sociology, I hadn't been very attached to it, and I found it actually hurt to try to focus on the subject matter. I never heard from Cara again. She could be living in Wisconsin. She could be living down the street from us for all I know. Or, she could be on the other side of the world. I tried to find her for a few months but eventually I figured she didn't want to be found, at least not by me."

Josh presses his lips to my temple for a few long moments, and the small gesture is more comforting than I ever would have imagined. "Do you think she was in love with you?"

"God, I hope not. I'd much rather think it was an extreme crush and that a little bit of distance helped her get over it instead of her pining over me for years. I truly hope she got over me quickly and has found someone to make her happy." I take another deep breath and let it out as a long, shuddery sigh—even though it was hard to talk about, I do feel a little better for having shared that bit of myself with Josh. "Still feel the same way about me after hearing about my checkered past?"

He's quiet for a few moments, stroking my hair thoughtfully. "Truthfully, I _do_ see you differently now, but that's not a bad thing. All it does is add more to the woman you've become. I certainly don't love you less. I am amazed that there's this big part of you I knew nothing about."

"I promise you—what you don't know about me is almost nonexistent." He leans over to kiss me; it only lasts for a few seconds before I pull away, gasping a little.

"What's wrong?" he asks looking at me with alarm.

"I just realized something. My relationship with Cara might explain why I was with Kyle for long."

"Who?"

"Dr. Freeride," I answer, rolling my eyes. "I mean it was more than a year after things ended with Cara, but I hadn't really dated anyone more than once or twice since. I was still gun shy and vulnerable, and I think I still had the same mentality of being bound and determined to make it work. Maybe even more so after that. Maybe I thought because he was a man, I had no excuses this time. Maybe I was overcompensating."

"Well…maybe that _would_ explain why you stuck with that loser for so long."

"Sounds better than me just being pathetic."

"I never thought you were pathetic," he protests, but I just wave him off.

"At a certain point with that relationship I was most definitely pathetic, but that's neither here nor there." I shrug and look over at him. "Anyway, there it is. Donna's big secret. We officially have no mystery left."

He shifts until he's facing me, one arm holding me, his other hand gently cupping my cheek. "I love you so much I can't see straight. You're the most incredible person I've ever known."

My eyes grow a little misty; I reach up and grab his hand, holding it in place as I turn and plant a kiss on the palm. "Thank you," I whisper.

He leans in and plants a kiss on my lips, lingering for a few long moments before he shifts us so that we're lying side by side. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was very personal and really none of my business, so really…thank you for trusting me."

I smile, kissing him again. It was hard talking about Cara, but it also felt kind of nice to think about her again. I love that I get to do that with Josh. Granted, the Josh I knew a few years ago would have been less likely to listen to a story like that, at least not without teasing me mercilessly. Hell, I wouldn't have been able to get past the part where I said I'd dated a woman before he went off the rails. Fortunately, he's grown and changed a lot, especially recently—we both have. Before our relationship, I never would have trusted that detail to anyone—I really had boxed it away and mostly forgotten about the whole thing, and it absolutely paled in comparison to the whole Freeride Fiasco.

"There was something else," Josh says softly, jarring me out of my thoughts.

"What?"

"Before, when I asked you to tell me something I didn't know—you had something else to tell me."

"Oh—that. You don't want to hear that. I think I've put enough on you for one night."

"You're on a roll, though." He hesitates, then sighs as he pulls me closer. "But that's okay. If you're not ready for it, I'm not going to force the issue."

I tighten my hold on him, burrowing myself closer. I breathe in his scent again and it grounds me just as much as it entices me. "Only if you're sure."

"Sure of what?"

"If you're up for more information. I really don't want to make your head explode."

He laughs a little, the sound rumbling through his body. "After what you just told me, I don't think anything could surprise me."

"Yeah, well…never say never." I let out a big sigh and shrug. "I had an abortion."

His entire body freezes, which isn't shocking. I try not to be hurt as he pulls away from me, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? I mean, not what but—what?"

"It wasn't something I'd ever imagined doing—who does, right? But...yeah. I had one." I can't read the expression on his face and that might worry me more than anything. His face, especially the last few months, has always been open to me, something I could interpret without a guide. He's shocked—I can tell that much—but I really hope I'm imagining the disgust and horror.

He scoots back a little more and the sudden physical distance between us breaks my heart. "You had a…uh…when—I mean, was…where…uh…was it, you know…mine?"

"Oh, my God, Josh, no!" I exclaim, reaching out to grab his arm. "_No_."

He still looks completely flummoxed. "Okay, but—"

"Josh, if at any point in the past six months I'd gotten pregnant, I absolutely would have told you. Not that I think we're ready for a baby but that would have been something we at least discussed."

He finally blinks, some of the color coming back to his face, and I'm not sure how I feel about his reaction. "Sorry," he breaths. "Sorry. I guess I wasn't expecting that. I don't—uh—think we're, you know, ready for that, either, but um, if there'd been a baby, I would have, you know…"

"Done your duty."

"Yeah. No! I mean I would have done my best for you and our…kid."

It's almost amusing seeing him this uncomfortable. Almost. "Well, it wasn't yours, I promise."

"You just really caught me off guard. I know I'm reacting poorly and…I have no excuse for that. Even if it'd been mine I wouldn't hate you. I think I'd want to know why you didn't tell me. I'd at least want to be there with you for it. I mean, it's your body, of course, and it's not like I have a say in it. I'm not your husband—not that it matters if I am! Being married doesn't mean I have the right to tell you—"

"Josh, breathe."

He gasps, taking in air. "Thank you."

"Second time tonight I've had to tell you to do that."

"Well, you're just full of surprises tonight." He settles a little closer to me again, his breathing returning to normal. "So…when? Who? Can I ask that?"

"I'm the one that brought it up; not really fair of me to clam up now."

"Donna…it's your story. Just because we're living together doesn't mean you should feel obligated to tell me every part of your past, even if you brought it up. Like your story with Cara—whatever you're comfortable with."

"It was when I was with Freeride. Beginning of the end, I guess."

"Did he know?" I hesitate, not sure if I want to answer that part. "I'm just curious. No judgment, remember?"

"I wanted to tell him at first. And I tried to, in a roundabout sort of way. I remember finding out and…well, unfortunately it was mostly dread. I was terrified. I was twenty-three, working two jobs, he was doing his residency, all the money I had went right into living expenses. I knew I couldn't afford to not work at one or both jobs after giving birth but I guess I really was an eternal optimist…or just incredibly stupid. Part of me thought that it might help our relationship, which is something only stupid kids ever think. We were at home one night—I don't even know how that happened—and I started talking about babies. I mentioned how cute they were and how I knew _so many_ people who were starting families and segued into asking him when he wanted to start trying to have kids. I guess I was still naïve enough to think that were in it for the long haul.

"Well, he laughed at me at first. He thought the notion of us talking about having kids was ridiculous. He said he was still years from actually being a doctor and it seemed like the end date for that was constantly being pushed back. He always needed more time and it didn't matter how much I had to work to take care of things. After he stopped laughing, we had quite the shouting match, but it was just more of the same—he was busy with school and it would be a long time before he earned a living at it, blah, blah, blah. The gist of it was that he didn't want kids. I don't know about ever but definitely not then. He kept going on about how I needed to make sure I was taking care of it and staying on the Pill, which I did religiously and he always wore condoms but…it happens. After seeing how very much he didn't want it, I went to Planned Parenthood and they helped me out. I kept telling myself that it wasn't the right time for us, that we'd have kids when we were ready because it was easier than the truth—I didn't want to have his child, especially if I wasn't going to have his support. I could have left him and gone to my parents and had the baby on my own but…I didn't want to. I know it probably sounds selfish but I wasn't ready to be a single parent. I wasn't even ready to be parents with someone. I was a little afraid of what would happen if I told him about it—not that he would be violent but that he would leave me, and looking back now, I realize I was worried I'd resent the baby for tethering me to that man for the rest of my life."

The room is silent for a while, though Josh is thinking so loudly I know he's still awake. "Wow," he finally says. "I can't believe I never knew—never had any idea that—"

"How would you? It's not like we walk around wearing signs to advertise when we've had it done. I can guarantee you that you pass by a dozen women every day who've had it done."

"Do you ever have any regrets?"

I make myself pause and think about it, but the answer is the same as it's always been. "No. I wasn't some tortured decision I had to make. I know a lot of stories that go around are women saying it was the hardest thing they ever had to do and that they wonder about what could have been every day and I'm sure that some do. But I look back and I know it was the right choice for me. I wasn't ready and I didn't want to start a family like that. It wouldn't have been fair to bring a kid into that mess. Sometimes the time isn't right and I think that's the only reason you need. I know that's a terrible reason to a lot of conservatives and republicans but they're not the ones stuck with kids they can't take care of."

"Can I just say, for the record, I would have fallen in love with you no matter what, even if you'd had a whole flock of kids when we met but, and this is going to make me sound like a real caveman…I'm really glad you don't have someone else's kid."

I take a shuddery breath, trying my hardest not to smile. Despite the overall heavy subject matter, I like what he's implying. Yes—it's quite a bit caveman of him to say, but maybe it's just as cavewoman of me to only want to have children with Josh…and for Josh to only want to have them with me.

"I don't even know how it happened, really. We were hardly having sex at that point. I know all it takes is once but…lucky shot."

His nose wrinkles at the metaphor. "Can we not talk about you having sex with your ex-boyfriend?"

"But it's okay to talk about sex with my ex-girlfriend?" I tease.

"Obviously." He pauses for a second, a few dozen things flitting across his face. "Actually, and this too is going to sound very caveman, but I'd rather not hear about any of your previous sexual encounters, at least not in a specific sense. I know that you've slept with others and that's enough."

"Yeah, well, I have to see one of your exes on an almost daily basis so I don't want to start comparing which one of us is more uncomfortable." I shudder a little; fortunately, my interactions with Amy Gardner the last few months have been few and far between. She can be hard for me to read and though she's usually cordial to me, it's always a little chilly—sometimes even downright cold—and often laced with snide comments, backhanded compliments, and sarcasm. Part of me thinks she's jealous of me and Josh even though she's been seeing some wood sculptor for a while now. Maybe it's one of those I-don't-want-him-but-I-don't-want-anyone-else-to-have-him-either things. At any rate, even if Amy and I were best buddies, I still wouldn't want to think about her in bed with Josh. Bad enough he used to call me in the mornings while he was still in his underwear, lounging in her apartment.

He cringes a little, tightening his hand on my waist. "So…are you all right? I mean, you shared an awful lot with me tonight and it seems like it's gotten to you a little and…"

I lean in, pressing a careful kiss to his lips. "You're so sweet to worry. I'm fine. They're old memories and I just haven't unpacked them in a while. I feel more regret over what happened with Cara than the abortion. I really don't know why I stayed with him after that when all I felt was relief that I wasn't going to have to deal with trying to raise a child on my own. I probably sound like a terrible person for thinking that and I thought I should…I don't know. Give him a chance to be better, to become a doctor and to be able to focus on me and our relationship. But he finished school and was finished with me and…you know how the rest of it goes." I pause, taking in his concerned expression, his deep, dark eyes, and feel my insides twist a little—in a good way. "For whatever it's worth, if I were to get pregnant, I can't foresee a situation between us where we wouldn't have a discussion about what the outcome should be."

"That's worth a lot, actually," he whispers, shifting closer to me. "You know I've never been a fan of Dr. Freeride, and knowing he couldn't pull his head out of his ass to take care of you even a little bit…that he couldn't appreciate you...of course, I like how it turned out. You being here with me instead of some doctor's wife out in Madison is more than I ever imagined would happen with my life. His loss, the world's gain."

"Josh…"

"What I'm trying to say is that even though I can't stand the guy, if there's ever anything else from your past with him that you need to talk about, I'm here for you. I mean it."

"Thank you, honey, but I hope he'll just be a faint memory for me from now on. Between running into him in Wisconsin last month and telling you about the abortion, I think I've exorcised those demons. I have closure."

He smiles gently and scoots even closer, sliding his hand beneath the undershirt I'm still wearing. I shift around for a few moments, pulling the garment over my head and tossing it to the floor. I snuggle against his chest, reveling in the feeling of our skin pressed together and fewer things metaphorically between us.

"And if you want to talk more about what you and Cara did together, that's okay, too."

I groan and smack the back of his head. I love him, but he's disgusting.

* * *

For whatever reason, the idea that Donna'd been in a relationship with a woman was one that stuck with me. Maybe it's a subconscious response to constantly seeing so many Josh/Sam fics (personally, I've never gotten that vibe from the two of them together so it just makes me scratch my head, but to each their own), but Donna seems like the sort that would have found herself in that situation and just wanted to see how it'd play out. At any rate, I wrote it and it stopped bugging me. Naming this thing has been the worst and has been preventing me from posting for weeks.


End file.
